In later times the area in Paris called Les Halles was a bustling market with beautiful Baltard style architecture built in glass and steel , playing host to passerby and farmer alike. This elegant architectural style of steel and glass of times gone by have been transformed into a modern day style of mirrors , vulgar window shop glass ,and plexiglass inciting the passerby into frenetic consommation. During the day this active area revolves around small parks , the subway , the cinema , and small shops feeding the hunger of this incessant desire...Until , night falls...giving way to another premise.
The underlying heart beat hidden during the busy day gives way to another orchestral hymn playing sordid chords. The rythm slows and Les Halles breathes humanity , or so it seems. In fact this area takes on another dimension as its mirrors soiled by the rain cast a reflection against the abandoned neon lights and broken windows.
The hour is of course midnight.

Destitute individuals come creeping into the area like reptiles slithering slowly along the worn out tile as well as the small time dealers scaring passing individuals who speed up their pace once catching a glance of these marginal creatures. In meeting these men , and a few women , outcasts of society and coming closer and actually speaking with these lost souls I found truth in their lucid glance.
Surprised by their ability to speak the frank truth of their torrid experiences between two or three gulps of drunken existence finds one interrogating his own outlook on life.This project presents a series of photos in two forms. A series of photos in movement and another in static form confronting the spectateur with the emotional parrallel of the beauty rising out of this life of despair.